


Outlogicked

by Sommik



Category: Star Trek XI
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-25
Updated: 2009-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-03 17:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sommik/pseuds/Sommik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An encounter with an ancient device almost brings down the Enterprise. Not to mention Spock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outlogicked

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for this fic in advance. It's just been one of those days. I get to work, boot up the laptop, wait the 10 min. it takes to start up, get the error message "invalid monitor ID", press ok, open Outlook, watch laptop crash, boot up laptop, wait another 10 min. get error message "invalid Monitor ID", wait another 10 min. so my antivirus can run before opening Outlook preventing another crash, get the error message "An unspecified error has occurred. Windows will now shut down." *Headdesk* So...sorry all. ~~Also not beta'ed. Mistakes all mine, but if anyone wants to give it a go as Beta, I'll be forever grateful.~~ RL has finally managed to give me a moment to make use of [](http://starcrossedtrek.livejournal.com/profile)[**starcrossedtrek**](http://starcrossedtrek.livejournal.com/)'s wonderful beta, making this fic so much more readable. All mistakes are still mine, though.

"Red alert, red alert. All personnel at your stations. Prepare for impact." The sound of wailing klaxons and the Commander of delta shift's voice issuing a red alert through the ship's internal loudspeakers instantly woke Jim. He flung the covers aside and scrambled out of bed. The fact that the other side of the bed was empty told him that it was less than two hours since he had gone to bed. He knew Spock was conducting a series of experiments at the moment which ran on an eighteen hour schedule and wanted to run them himself. The fact that Spock didn't need as much sleep as humans meant that he could easily slip down in the lab after his shift and work a couple more hours before coming to bed. It also meant no sex before bed, though, which Jim wasn't too happy about.

He quickly grabbed his fleet standard issue black pants and jumped into them, hopping on one foot towards the door as he struggled to get them on. He managed to pull them on just before he reached the door, which opened automatically for him. Just before he stepped through, he snatched his black undershirt from the floor were he had flung it a couple of hours before. Pulling it on while running proved to be a bad idea as the ship suddenly shook and he was flung face first into the wall, his arms and head still trapped in his shirt. He stumbled along the wall, desperately trying to find his balance or get his hands out to brace his fall, whichever came first. He managed neither, but just as he imagined the hard, unforgiving floor rising up to meet him ensuring him an instant and prolonged trip to sickbay, strong hands grabbed his arms and he found himself pulled face-first into a broad, strong chest. It didn't last long, though, as the hands were quickly pulled back, once they had assured Jim had found his feet again.

"I suggest you take the time to dress properly before venturing out during a crisis situation, ensign..." Spock's voice trailed off as Jim's head finally popped through his shirt. "Captain," Spock said instead, then grabbed for Jim again as the ship gave another violent shudder.

"Yeah. Thanks, Spock. Thought I was destined for some of Bones' hypos there for a minute or two. Now, what the Hell is going on?" Jim said in frustration as once again he started running for the lift to the bridge, Spock on his heels.

"I do not know. I was on my way back from the science laboratory when Lieutenant Commander Hendricks sounded the alarm. I did not notice any disturbance during our shift which would account for a red alert."

They both entered the lift at the same time, Jim impatiently shifting from one foot to the other as it ascended to the bridge. When the door opened chaos met his eyes. Lieutenant Commander Hendricks was sitting in the Captain's chair, intently watching the screen while barking orders at the helmsman, who looked somewhat frazzled, in Jim's opinion.

"Jorgens, try to dive under it," Hendricks said, his voice authoritative, but not angry.

"I can't, sir. The controls won't respond."

They all watched the screen as a large asteroid hurtled towards them, growing larger and larger on the big screen, until it finally made impact with the _Enterprise_. The ship shook violently, sending a hapless young ensign into the wall and then the floor as his hands slipped on the railing he had gripped. Jim, for once, had been prepared for the shudder and managed to stay upright for the duration, clinging to the railing.

"Hendricks, report," he yelled, once the ship was stabilised again. The situation did not make sense. An asteroid field like the one he saw in front of him on the screen should not cause a ship like the _Enterprise_ any problems. Its sensors should be able to pick up the positions and navigate around them automatically, and failing that, manual override would give the helmsman control to manoeuvre around them, which any decently trained helmsman would know how to do is his sleep. Something else was wrong.

"Captain, approximately twenty minutes ago we lost control over the ship and it dropped out of warp, but continued on normal speed. No course corrections have taken place or any attempts to take over any other procedures of the ship. But we cannot regain control. All processes seems to have frozen. Then, ten minutes ago, we entered the asteroid belt circling the moon on Bhela V, but without contact with the ship's navigation programs we have not been able to steer around them. The shields are still holding but are at 55% capacity already." Hendricks got up from the chair, effectively changing command and Jim hurriedly sat down. Spock was already at his seat at the science station were two engineers were also huddled over the computers.

"Spock, status. What's wrong with my ship?" He turned towards Spock, who was typing something furiously into his computer.

"I am uncertain, Captain. I have not encountered this problem before. It seems like it might be a virus of some sort."

"Alright. Ensign Jankov, get Ensign Chekov up here and wake Lt. Cmdr. Scott. I want him down in engineering, asap."

"Aye aye, Captain," Jankov, delta shift's communications expert said. It didn't take more than a minute before he said,"Lt. Cmdr. Scott, sir."

"Put him through," Jim said. He figured he should have known Scotty would already be awake and down in engineering.

"What 's going on up there?" Scotty said, his Scottish accent mangling his words as usual. "I've been trying to divert power towards the shields since we seem to be taking quite a beating, but the computer will not recognise me voice command. She can't take much more of this, Captain, before parts starts falling off of her. I need access to the computers," he said in frustration.

"We're working on it, Scotty. Just keep trying and be ready. If you do get through, you might only have a small window of time. Kirk out." Jim looked back at the view screen. From what he could estimate from that sight alone they probably had another five minutes before another hit. He got up from his chair and made his way over to the science station, just as Chekov came charging on to the bridge, his hair in disarray, but fully clothed - unlike his captain. He quickly took in the situation and sat down at his station, replacing his colleague from delta shift who moved readily. Quickly going through his voice recognition protocol, he frowned when the computer didn't respond. Before Jim turned his attention back to the science station, he could hear Chekov very carefully recite his authorisation code again, trying to squash his Russian accent. "Spock?" Jim asked, watching as his lover tapped away at the keyboard, an honest-to-God small frown actually marring his face. Jim instantly became more worried, knowing that anything that could elicit such a response in the normally so stoic Vulcan could not be good. "What is it?"

"I have been unable to re-establish control over the ship, Captain. The virus is blocking my attempts." Jim watched Spock tap in his override command. A message popped up on his screen.

_"User error: Replace user and try again."_ "It appears that it will not recognise my attempt as command, and neither Lieutenant Harok or Ensign Basweda have been able to override it either. Perhaps you, as Captain, has a better chance," Spock said and made room for Jim to lean over and tap in his override. Another message popped up. _"Runtime Error 7D at 423B:32CA: Incompetent User."_ Huh! Well, that was just rude, in Jim's opinion.

"Ok, so it won't recognise us as users. Any other ideas? Chekov, you finding out anything down there?" The Russian technological whizzkid quickly looked up from his screen, a frustrated look on his face.

"Njet, Keptin. I kennot get through either. It sez: "Keyboard not responding. Press any key." But how can I prez any key if keyboard is not responding?" Chekov asked with a slight whine in his voice. Jim turned his attention back to Spock, after a brief look at the asteroid approaching. He estimated approximately two and a half minutes until next impact. Spock was still tapping away. From what Jim could see, it looked like he was trying to override the whole system, going beneath it where no authorization was necessary, or in other words, hacking his beautiful baby. His beautiful baby who, right now, was acting like a disgruntled teenager who had been banned from going to the latest party wearing nothing but a short skirt and a sequined bra. Complete with slamming of the doors and turning the music up to the highest volume, and going lalalalala when asked to turn it down. Another window popped up.

_"~~~MESSAGE~~~hQOEgfAN006379hqQQWBNDb608^k^^^lKKHJ5478~~~END MESSAGE~~~  
If you understand and accept these conditions, click ok"_

"I am not sure I understand, Captain. Perhaps lieutenant Uhura would be better able to decipher this message?" Spock said, and again frowned - frowned! - at the terminal and the message.

"I think that's a language not even Uhura knows how to speak, Spock," Jim said with a sigh. Spock raised an eyebrow, but after a second's deliberation seemed to come to the conclusion that this was not a slight towards Uhura's talents at xenolinguistics, but an actual, and probably correct opinion. He inclined his head in agreement and diverted his attention back to his terminal. Another few taps gave another message. _"Security: you do not have permission to view the current permission settings , but you can make permission changes."_

"So, what? You don't have permission to view the permission settings, but you are allowed to change it so that you can have permission. How does that make sense?" Jim asked, scratching the back of his head.

"It does not," Spock said tightly, typing some more, his frown becoming more pronounced as he battled with the computer.

"Keptin, Keptin, I think I know what et iz," Chekov suddenly shouted excitedly from his station. "Et iz not a wirus, but something called Microsoft Windows XP. I have heard of this, when in school. It waz actually once an operating system used in personal computers back in the beginning of the 21st century. It was running most systems back then. I do not know how it has been implemented in our system, though, but we'll need to find and delete it. Otherwise we cannot regain control. But, sir, it was notorious back then for not wanting to be deleted, so I do not exactly know how to do this." Chekov had just finished speaking, as the asteroid Jim had been keeping his eye on, impacted with the ship. As he was standing up instead of sitting comfortably in his Captain's chair, Jim scrabbled for something to hold onto and ended up with both hands tightly gripping his first officer's tight biceps. He was sure there would be bruises there tomorrow, but Spock did not seem to mind. In fact, his arm had snuck around Jim's waist, keeping him in place. Jim's eyes went a little wide at this realisation, knowing Spock preferred to keep their relationship private and generally was not a touchy feely type of guy, but Spock did not seem to notice and as soon as the ship was back to normal, his arm went back to it's normal place, tapping away, as quickly as it had arrived.

"Captain, shields are down to 22%. They will be completely destroyed by the next impact," Ensign Dasher said. Jim looked at the viewscreen and figured they had maybe another 7-8 minutes left. Damn, damn, damn.

"I believe I may have found the file, Captain. I will attempt to delete it," Spock said. Jim turned his attention back to the science terminal. Another message popped up as Spock finished writing. _"Cannot delete Windows XP. There is not enough free disk space. Delete one or more files to free disk space, and then try again."_ Jim's eyebrows were actually trying to crawl into his hairline when he heard the choked-off growl from his first officer.

"This is...entirely illogical, Captain. If one can not delete a file, then how can one free more disk space by deleting a file?" Jim took that as a rhetorical question. Spock resumed his tapping with, had he not been a Vulcan, Jim would say, a vengeance. Another message popped up. _"An error occurred while creating an error report. Please report error."_ Spock's hand shook minutely, something only Jim noticed, as his first officer visibly restrained himself from bashing in his computer terminal. He tapped away furiously until a new window popped up. _"Unable to continue because UNKNOWN has occurred."_ Jim covertly ran a hand down Spock's rigid back, trying to soothe his lover, before something or someone got hurt. Or you know, the universe stopped existing since it was entirely impossible for a computer program to out logic a Vulcan. That was just so not on.

Before Spock had a chance to write anything again, another message popped up, followed by another and another, stacking on top of each other. Jim could feel Spock almost vibrating with the illogic of it all and had it not been ten minutes before they were all blown to pieces by a great big chunk of rock, Jim would have found it immensely funny.

_"Error: An error with no error message has been logged"_

_"Error: No error has occurred"_

_"Error: A catastophic error has occurred"_

"This is entirely illogical. How could anyone have worked with this system? It is not logical," Spock said again, his voice tight, his eyes almost shooting daggers at the screen. He seemed to have been reduced to repeating himself, his logical mind simply not able to fathom the incoherent messages appearing on the screen. The program had managed what many higher beings had not. It had broken his Vulcan.

Suddenly the whole barrage of error messages ended with a single one on top.

_"Error: The operation completed successfully."_ Jim just managed to see it before everything went dark. All computers shut down at once, lights went off, engines, air support, everything. Jim gripped Spock's bicep again, squeezing it. He never thought it would end this way, because of a simple - ok, not so simple in fact - computer error. He had always imagined something grander, like a huge fight, preferably saving a few damsels in distress or even a few planets. Or perhaps him dying in Spock's arms, blood running down from a huge hole in his chest, while he stoically turned command over to Spock and told him he loved him. Spock would cry...alright, Spock might blink his eyes a lot and it would all be very emotional. But here they were. His ship without power, his Vulcan defeated by an illogical computer, and a big rock aimed straight for them. Jim spared a quick thought for his crew and friends on board. At least if he had to go down, he couldn't do it with a better bunch of people. Before he could manage to get any more morose, a click was heard and all systems suddenly switched on again. The bridge became an inferno of clicks and whirs and blinking lights as everything came back online.

"I haf control over ze ship again, Keptin, but ze engines are cold. We cannot steer away from ze asteroid," Chekov yelled, just as the view screen powered up, the asteroid filling almost all of it. There was no time to power up the engines, Jim knew. It seemed that the magical restoration of their system had come too late to help them. The asteroid hit the ship almost directly in front of the bridge and Jim would have been thrown right across the room, had Spock not managed to catch his arm. He ended up in Spock's lap, much to his bemusement, but Spock did not seemed inclined to let go immediately, instead almost clinging to Jim's waist, almost as if looking for insurance that there was still something substantial and logic left in his world. It wasn't until Spock noticed Jim smirking at him, that he abruptly removed his arm and almost pushed him off. Jim didn't have time to mess with Spock, though, since he needed to find out why they were still alive.

"Captain, Lieutenant Commander Scott," Ensign Jankov said.

"Put him through."

"Captain, mighty glad to see ye got control again. Not too sure I liked having all of my engines cut off like that, though. It's a right mess, I tell ye, and they won't be up and running in the next hour or so at least, but I might get them a-limping for a wee bit if we need to get out of here. I diverted all non-critical power to the shields as soon as we went online and seems like a right fine idea that was, judging by the way ye guys keep throwing us around down here. I need me some help to get Keenser out of a Jeffries tube, by the way."

"We'll send a security team down to help as soon as possible, Scotty. And let us know as soon as we have any impulse power. We're stuck in an asteroid field right now and shields or not, I would really like to get out of here as fast as possible."

"Aye, Captain, will do."

"Oh, and Scotty. Good job down there. Quick thinking with those shields."

"Just doing me job, looking out fer the lady. Scotty out."

"Spock, what's the status on the virus, I mean micro whatever thingy? "

"I believe it has been deleted, Captain, although I must admit I do not know how. This entire process has been highly illogical and do not conform to any known standard of operating system of today, or indeed the last two centuries. I find it hard to believe that it would be able to run anything at all," Spock said. He was still scowling at his terminal, despondently pushing a few buttons, but looking almost afraid that another illogical error message might pop up on his screen.

"Alright, I want everyone with the clearance for it working on going through every single line of code in the ship's system to find out if we managed to actually get rid of it. Chekov, I want you leading it. I also want to know how it came into my ship. Get security to help you on that. Ensign Jankov, get me sickbay."

"What the hell is going on, Jim?" McCoy's gruff voice sounded from sickbay, his usual grumpy tone telling Jim instantly that while he had enough on his hands, there were (thankfully) no casualties. "I got a dozen people down here with broken or twisted limbs from falling or being thrown into stuff after your damn hazardous flying."

"Sorry, Bones, computer problems, but it's been fixed now, I hope. Any serious injuries down there?"

"Nah, although how the hell Ensign Petter managed to get his head stuck in a bucket of fertilizer from the hydrolab, I don't know. Hell, I don't want to know, but I'm vaccinating him for all known diseases to mankind. And whatever else I can come up with. Bloody idiot deserves it. Damn place stinks to high hell," the doctor grumbled.

"Alright, Bones, talk to you later." Jim smothered a snicker and turned his attention to the bridge crew. Apart from himself, Spock and Chekov it was still the delta crew manning the positions. The whole catastrophe had taken less than 30 minutes, but to Jim it felt like hours now that the adrenaline was fading and knowing he had only had a couple of hours sleep after a long shift, he knew he'd be crashing soon.

"Hendricks, you have the conn, Spock, with me." Jim made for the lift, Spock at his heels. Once they were inside, Spock turned towards him. "Should I not be helping Ensign Chekov with the computer, Captain?"

"Nah, Spock. Fun as it is watching a computer program beating you, I want my first officer healthy and sane, and my bridge in one piece. I don't think I'd have any of that if I let you keep working on it."

"I will admit to have felt a bit..."

"Murderously annoyed, dangerously peeved, illogically and violently pissed off?" Jim asked with a grin.

"...Irritated. There was no logical meaning to any of the error messages, and so they did not help in producing any kind of answer to the problem at hand. It..."

"Nevermind, Spock. Let Chekov take care of it. He's a teenager. I'm sure he's going to get along with it just fine now that we're not actually in any life threatening situation. What I'm ordering now, is stress relief. You're obviously stressed, and I'm your relief. And I know exactly how to do that," Jim said, turning toward Spock. He didn't have time to anything more than give him a lewd grin, before the lift door opened. At the door to his quarters, Jim grabbed Spock and pulled him inside, pushing him up against the now closed door, kissing him fervently. Watching Spock come unglued on the bridge had turned him on, knowing it was something he normally never saw outside of the bedroom. He always loved when he could elicit that kind of response from his normally repressed lover and he had to admit that he was, maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit jealous of that damn computer program for being able to do the same. But before he could really get into things, his communicator chirped. Jim scowled at it before he flipped it open. Spock was looking smug in front of him as Jim tried to catch his breath. "Captain Kirk here, what is it?"

"Hendricks here, sir. I believe we might have found out how the ship became infected. At the last shoreleave on Tiranus, Lieutenant Ka'lpock from historical science acquired a device which contained what he thought was an ancient program humans used to learn from. He thought it would teach him more about ancient human culture. He plugged it in to one of the ship's computers, but since he didn't understand what it was doing he inadvertently managed to install it on the ship's system, where it proceeded to take control. He then tried to uninstall it, but what happened was not a logical consequence of what he did and he does not understand how it came that far. He is ready for whatever punishment you may decide." Hendricks waited a beat before adding, "He seemed almost agitated, sir."

"So let me get this straight. Ka'lpock, a Vulcan if I remember correctly and I do, almost brought our entire ship down because he installed an ancient computer programmed which managed to out-logic not one, but two Vulcans, and defeat the best and brightest computer experts we have and this thing basically ran the world in the beginning of the 21st century? How the hell are we even alive today?"

"I'm really not sure, Captain," Hendricks said, the hint of a smile in his voice. Now that the danger was over and it was confirmed that it had not been a deliberate attempt of terror, it was easier to see the humour in the whole situation.

"Alright, tell Ka'lpock that from now on, anything computerized that he buys will have to be checked out by Ensign Chekov or any other human computer expert first and that if he ever comes across anything with the words Microsoft or Windows on it, he is to back away slowly and carefully and then turn and run. But for now I suggest a couple of hours of meditation and then an evening of chess in the rec room, before he goes nuts from the whole not-logical-thing. You got all that?"

"Got it, Captain. I will pass on the message to Lt. Ka'lpock," Hendricks said, this time a definitely laugh in his voice. "Hendricks out."

Jim turned his attention back to the Vulcan currently crowded up against his door. He had a lover to reduce to pure emotional responses. He did not like being one-upped by a computer.   
 


End file.
